


Cookies

by SolarMorrigan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Baking, Christmas Cookies, M/M, More Fluff, dude I don't know, or biscuits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Q is baking and Bond is angling for a cookie





	Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 31 Days of Bond at the [MI6 Cafe](http://mi6-cafe.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. I didn't make it all 31 days, but I got a few good things out of it. Also, as an American, I'm unqualified to tell the difference between a cookie and a biscuit and just made everything a cookie out of self defense (I've been told by two different people that a biscuit is something one would dunk in one's tea but I'm pretty sure I've broken that rule??)
> 
> Originally posted here as part of a collection, which I've since deleted; if you left kudos or a comment for this story, please know that I've saved them to look upon and cherish (also, thank you)

The kitchen was overrun, completely and totally, by cookies.

Every surface was covered with the things; there were tins and containers already packed with them, cooling racks with batches still setting, and a few cookie sheets waiting to go into the oven while Q studiously arranged gingerbread shapes on them.

“What are you doing?” Bond asked, watching Q swap a tree for a star to no apparent effect.

“Baking.”

“I can see that. Why?”

“Tomorrow is the annual holiday potluck.”

Bond waited a moment for further clarification before realizing that Q was in full project mode; questions would receive only direct answers until he was done or until something broke him out of it. “Are you planning on feeding the entirety of MI6, then?” Bond prompted.

“Just Q branch. Don’t touch that.”

As Q hadn’t actually looked up from what he was doing, Bond wondered if it was simply a lucky guess that he had been about to snatch a sugar cookie. Likely not; Q insisted he never  _guessed_. “You have to have well over a hundred cookies here, Q. You won’t miss one.”

“I will, actually. I’ve counted them all.” Q assured Bond.

“Of course you have.” Bond muttered, giving the theft of treats up as a bad job for the time being.

The cookie sheet finally reached Q’s specifications, whatever those were, and once it was in the oven Q looked up at Bond. “I would like for all of these to reach headquarters tomorrow. You may come down and request some then.”

“How frightfully generous.” Bond paused, narrowing his eyes at Q, “What do you mean, request?”

“Q branch potluck is for Q branch members only, technically. Mostly because too many other people from other departments were coming down to mooch off of us. We do have the best cookies, after all.” Q gave Bond a quick, wry grin.

“And such a modest baker.”

“It isn’t hubris if it’s true.” Q replied, turning to rearrange his cookie cutters into neat rows beside his workspace.

“Well, I wouldn’t know whether it’s true or not, being as I haven’t had any.” Bond reminded him.

Q only gave Bond a vaguely acknowledging ‘hm’ without glancing back. “The only people outside of Q branch who may partake without asking are Mallory and Moneypenny, for somewhat obvious reasons.”

Bond frowned. “Mallory I understand, but why Moneypenny?”

“She’s M’s secretary.” Q shrugged, “The woman is also, frankly, terrifying.”

“You have actually seen me kill people, Q.  _I_  should be terrifying.” Bond insisted.

Q hummed again and turned around to look at Bond, leaning back against the counter. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you would actually menace me for a cookie.”

Taking the two steps necessary to put him in front of Q, Bond penned the other man in by placing his hands on the counter on either side of him. “I would absolutely menace you for a cookie.” He told Q, meeting his gaze squarely.

Q stared back for a moment or two, apparently unmoved, before smirking up at Bond. “Liar.” He accused fondly, before reaching behind himself to grab something off the counter and offer it to Bond, “But you can have this for your effort, I suppose.”

Bond was forced to remove one hand from the counter to accept what appeared to be some sort of lightly colored lump, though Q didn’t take the opportunity to slip away as Bond thought he might. “What is it?”

“It’s a coconut macaroon.”

“I don’t like coconut.” Bond frowned.

“I know.” Q leaned up to press a light kiss to the corner of Bond’s lips, “But that’s because you’ve never tried anything  _I’ve_  made with coconut.”

Bond rolled his eyes but allowed Q to slip away when he made noises about rolling out more dough, and vowed to toss the cookie as soon as he thought he could get away with it.

(He didn’t actually toss it.)

(And it was delicious.)

(Which Q knew.)

(The bastard.)

**Author's Note:**

> [Also posted on Tumblr!](http://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/168916109283/okay-the-difference-between-cookies-and-biscuits)


End file.
